


Up to Eleven

by Alyx17



Category: Spider-Man - All Media Types, Spider-Man: Homecoming (2017)
Genre: Peter Parker Needs a Hug, The Author Regrets Everything, The Author Regrets Nothing, Tony Stark Has A Heart
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2017-12-08
Updated: 2018-01-21
Packaged: 2019-02-12 06:46:18
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: Creator Chose Not To Use Archive Warnings
Chapters: 2
Words: 4,394
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/12953628
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Alyx17/pseuds/Alyx17
Summary: A one-shot where Peter struggles with self-control and his heightened senses. Tony is there to help.





	1. Chapter 1

**Author's Note:**

> I don't know okay I did a one-shot because I have writer's block on my other fic sue me/send help

Peter still struggled with shutting things out. Since he’d gotten his powers it was like all of his senses were dialed up to an eleven. Those heightened senses were critical for being Spider-Man, but there were times Peter wished more than anything that he could dial them back down to pre-radioactive spider bite levels.

 

Especially his hearing.

 

“What the _fuck_ did I just say, May?”

“It was nothing, Chris, I told you,” said May exasperatedly. “You’re being ridiculous.”

“Flirting with other guys during our date is _nothing_ now?!”

“Seriously? I wasn’t flirting… he’s an old friend.”

“Yeah, he seemed awfully _friendly_.”

 

Peter gritted his teeth, squeezing his eyes shut in a poor attempt to drown out May’s argument with her new boyfriend. He hated invading her privacy like this, but he couldn’t always help it.

 

After checking in repeatedly with Peter that it was okay, May had started dating again. Peter had given her his heartfelt blessing, but a selfish part of him wished that it could stay just him and May forever. He didn’t want May to date again. He wanted his uncle Ben back. Chris was fine enough, but he tried a little to hard to make Peter like him, and it rubbed Peter the wrong way. He knew that wasn’t fair, so when May had asked him if he liked Chris, he’d lied and said yes.

 

Peter fished his headphones out of his backpack, putting them in and turning on his favorite Ramones song. It helped a little until the fight escalated.

 

“Get out, Chris. I’m _done._ ”

“You’re done? What do you mean you’re fucking done? Don’t you dare walk away from me right now.”

“Let go, Chris. You’re hurting me.”

 

Peter hesitated at that, but May’s voice was calm and steady which made him think that she didn’t need his help. He knew that May could handle herself.

 

“You think _this_ is hurting you?” Chris scoffed.

 

Then, Peter heard it. The unmistakable sound of knuckles connecting with flesh followed by a dull thud. Peter yanked out his headphones. For a second, he was struck dumb, motionless in his disbelief. The pit of his stomach felt full of ice and his heart rate skyrocketed. He _couldn’t_ have just heard what he thought he did. Springing from his bed, he moved as quickly as he could to May’s bedroom.

 

He heard more. “May, get up. I’m sorry, alright? Just… get up…”

 

Peter wrenched open the door and felt the ice in his stomach turn to fire with the sight of May sprawled on the carpet. Without thinking, without deciding, he had Chris in a chokehold, throwing him easily against the wall with enough force to crack the plaster. Chris’s hands scrabbled pointlessly at Peter’s grip as he tried to cry out against the crushing force around his windpipe.

 

What happened next was hazy. Roaring began in his ears and quickly raised to a crescendo, blocking out all but the faintest hint of May’s screams. Nothing mattered but hitting every inch of Chris that he could reach. He brought his arm back again and again until his fist was bloodied. He wasn’t quite sure what brought him back to himself, but suddenly the roaring had receded and Chris was on the floor in a heap.

 

May’s voice sounded garbled. She was holding Peter’s face in her trembling hands. “Peter, honey, look at me… can you hear me? Peter…”

 

An indeterminate amount of time passed. There was a loud knock at the door. Peter heard murmuring and felt rather than saw Chris being helped to his feet by May and a pair of paramedics. When they took him down to the ambulance, May didn’t go with them. An angry bruise was rising on her face.

 

***

 

Tony got the call when he was poring over blueprints of an improved design for Rhodey’s prosthetics.

 

“May Parker for you, boss,” FRIDAY announced.

 

Tony’s brow furrowed. “Put her through.”

 

May’s voice was sharp and frantic. Tony listened to her with increasing incredulity, already half-way out the door before she’d finished talking.

 

Tony arrived at the Parkers’ apartment thirty minutes later, still trying to wrap his head around what May had told him. He rapped smartly on the door to their apartment and May emerged, looking panicky and disheveled. “Thank you for coming, Tony,” she said tremulously. “I didn’t know what else to do… I think he’s in shock…” she faltered a little.

 

Tony noticed the bruise on her face and frowned. “May…”

 

She brushed him off with an impatient hand gesture. “Would you stay with him? Try and talk to him? I’ve been trying for the past hour and hasn’t said very much. I need to get to the hospital…make sure Chris isn’t going to try and press charges…”

 

“I’d like to see him try,” Tony snarled. “Are you sure--?”

 

May gave him a little smile. “Thanks, Tony, but I can handle this. I’ll be back as soon as I can.” She left.

 

Tony looked into the Parkers’ sitting room and saw Peter sitting listlessly on the sofa, his knuckles still caked with Chris’s dried blood.

 

Tony approached hesitantly. “Hey, kiddo.”

 

Peter looked up at him wordlessly. Tony was disturbed by his vacant expression.

 

“Okay if I sit with you?” Tony asked.

 

Peter just shrugged. Tony sat. They stayed there quietly for a while, Tony mulling over what to say in his mind. He was surprised when Peter broke the silence. “Is he going to die?” he asked hollowly.

 

Tony shook his head. “No, kid. He’s not. You did a number on him though. Broken jaw… broken nose… cracked vertebrae…”

 

Peter blanched a bit at that information.

 

“What happened, Peter?” Tony asked.

 

Peter sighed, his expressionless mask crumbling just a little. He put his head in his hands. “I don’t know.”

 

Tony waited for him to continue. Hesitantly, he put a hand between the kid’s shoulder blades. The touch seemed to work as a sort of catalyst, because Peter kept talking. He told Tony about May’s argument with her boyfriend, about his unsuccessful attempts to drown it out. Tony listened as he talked about hearing May’s boyfriend punch her.

 

Peter suddenly hesitated. “And then… I opened the door and I saw… and… Mr. Stark, I think something’s really wrong with me…I don’t really remember all that well what happened next.”

 

Tony kept his hand on the kid’s back, squeezing his shoulder a little in what he hoped was a reassuring way. “Just try. It’s okay. Tell me what you do remember. And for God’s sake, call me Tony.”

 

Peter took a deep shuddering breath. “I—May was on the floor, and he was standing over her. He turned to face me and I… lost it, Mr. St --Tony. I lost it.”

 

“What do you mean you lost it?”

 

“I mean I… _snapped_. I remember picking him up by his throat and throwing him into the wall. I think it’s… the wall’s probably… damaged…”

 

“That would explain the cracked vertebrae,” said Tony, nodding.

 

Peter started to shake a little but his voice remained steady. “And then… I was hitting him. Over and over and over again. I think May might have tried to stop me, but…”

 

“And that’ll be the broken nose and jaw,” said Tony. “She told me that she tried pulling you off of him, but you know… Spider-Man vs Aunt Hottie wasn’t much of a fight.”

 

Peter turned a tortured face to Tony. “Did I hurt her?”

 

“No, Peter. No. She couldn’t budge you, so she gave up pretty quick. Mostly she was yelling at you to stop. She called for an ambulance once you were… done.”

 

Peter’s shaking had reached his voice. “I-I d-don’t know what to do, Tony. I only tr-tried to help May but I totally _lost it_ on this guy. I know he shouldn’t have hit May but that doesn’t g-give me the right to hurt him like that.”

 

Tony put a hand on each of Peter’s shoulders, turning the kid to face him. “Look at me. Personally? I have no problem with what you did. If you ask me, that guy deserved what he got and then some. But this isn’t okay. You know why? Because you’re _better than me_. This isn’t you.”

 

Peter’s eyes started to swim with tears.

 

Tony continued. “You can’t afford to lose control like that, kiddo. Because you’re special… Because you’re different. It’s not like when a normal person loses control.”

 

The tears were falling freely from Peter’s eyes now. “I kn-know. I…I have to be better… is May mad at me, Tony? Is she afraid of me?”

 

Peter looked so stricken that Tony pulled him close in an attempt to reassure him. “No, kid. She’s not afraid. She just wants to help you. We both do.”

 

Abandoning all restraint, Peter’s body was wracked with sobs as he clung to Tony and cried against his chest. “I j-just want… I w-wish Ben were here…It’s not… It’s not f-f-fair…I want him back…”

 

Tony held the kid tighter. “I know, Pete. I know.”

 

Tony wasn’t sure how long they stayed like that, but eventually the kid’s sobs quieted and he stopped shaking. He looked utterly exhausted and defeated.

 

“How do I know I won’t lose control like that again?” Peter asked Tony, sniffling.

 

“Turns out I know an expert on control issues,” said Tony gently. “We’re gonna talk to Banner. He’s expecting you at the compound tomorrow. But for now… get some sleep. Talk to May. It’s going to be alright, okay? I promise.”

 

Peter’s voice was muffled against Tony’s shirt. “Thanks, Tony.”

 

Tony ruffled the kid’s hair fondly. “You’re welcome, kiddo.” 

 

 

 

 


	2. Chapter 2

**Summary for the Chapter:**

> This one shot turned into a two shot... sue me.

“You told him _what_?!” Bruce glared at Tony in disbelief.

 

Tony had the grace to look a little sheepish. “Come on, Banner, it’s not like I have a modicum of restraint. How was _I_ supposed to help the kid?”

 

“So naturally you volunteered the guy who regularly loses control and transforms into a monster,” Bruce said scathingly.

 

“ _Yes._ Because every second that you’re _not_ the Hulk you’re exercising a crazy amount of will-power that I will never even come close to comprehending. Sure, you’ve had some slip-ups—“

 

“ _Slip-ups?!_ Tony, I was the…other guy… for _two years_ on Sakaar! I’m still trying to remember how to be me! I’m still trying to figure out who _me_ even is anymore! And you think I’m in a position to talk to Peter about control issues!?”

 

“He likes you. Ever since you’ve been back he’s been coming around the compound even more than usual. He _shared his identity with you._ How can you not see the _gravity_ of that?!”

 

“Do you think I asked for that?! I’m not a good influence for the kid, Tony. I’m dangerous. If you had any sense, you’d keep him away from me.”

 

Tony scowled at Bruce. “This right here is why _you_ should do this. You and Peter are more alike than you know. You know what _I_ think? I think you’re crazy for not embracing that side of yourself. I think Peter’s crazy for feeling guilty because he beat the fuck out of his Aunt’s abusive boyfriend. You know why? Because I’ve always undervalued restraint. And do you know how much shit that has gotten me in? I don’t want to see Peter make the same mistakes that I have. Besides, the kid’s all eaten up with guilt about what happened. He wants to feel like he’s doing _something.”_

 

Bruce was silent for so long that Tony thought he wasn’t going to answer. Then he sighed heavily. “What time will he be here?”

 

***

Peter was fidgeting nervously, waiting for FRIDAY to alert Tony that he’d arrived at the compound. He was still recovering from the events of the previous night, and his face was drawn and pale.

 

_Tony stayed with him until he fell asleep right on the couch, and he woke hours later to the sound of May coming home. He sat up abruptly, clicking on the lamp on the coffee table._

_May jumped a little. “God, Peter you scared me! I didn’t see you there.”_

_“Sorry,” said Peter quietly.  He studied his aunt carefully. She looked tired._

_May sat down on the couch beside Peter, reaching out to stroke his hair. “How you feeling?”_

_“Okay,” said Peter. He had expected May to be a little nervous or maybe even scared of him after what she’d seen, but she was acting perfectly normal. With his enhanced hearing, he could tell that her heartbeat was regular and steady. She wasn’t afraid. Peter felt powerful relief welling up in his chest and let out a breath he didn’t know that he was holding._

_“Talk to me, Pete,” said May._

_So Peter did. For the second time that night he recounted his version of events. Having already been through the story once with Tony, he found this time a little easier. As he talked he carefully studied May’s expressions, but she remained impassive aside from paling slightly when Peter described losing control._

_After Peter had finished, the two sat quietly for a while, May holding Peter’s hand. Finally, Peter asked, “How’s he doing?”_

_“Chris? Oh, he’ll be fine. The doctors have got him on morphine so he was out for most of the time that I was there. He came to for a little while but he wasn’t able to talk much because of his jaw so I’ll have to go back tomorrow—“_

_Peter looked at his aunt fearfully. “But you’re… done with him, aren’t you?”_

_“Oh baby, of course I am. I just need to make sure he’s not going to press charges… it could put your identity in danger. I’m so sorry… I didn’t know he was capable of something like that—“_

_“Don’t apologize,” said Peter weakly. “Don’t, May, it’s not your fault…I’m sorry that I lost control…”_

_But now May was crying. Peter was alarmed; he could count on one hand the number of times he’d seen May cry. He reached out and held her to him, wishing there was something he could do. “I miss Ben,” May said into Peter’s chest._

_Peter felt a terrible pang, and suddenly he was crying too._

_They stayed like that for a while, holding on to each other until May pulled back from her nephew. She chuckled wryly. “Aren’t we messes?” she asked rhetorically. Peter couldn’t help it; his mouth twitched in a near-laugh. That was the thing about May. She always made even the worst things a little bit better._

_“Get some sleep, Pete,” May said._

_Peter stretched and nodded, heading for his room. “You, too.”_

Lost in his reminiscences, Peter jumped a little when Tony appeared at the door to usher him into the compound. If Tony felt awkward after Peter’s emotional breakdown, he didn’t show it, and Peter was grateful.

 

“Hey, Peter,” said Tony amicably. “Can I get you something? Coffee? Something to spike it with?”

 

Peter gave Tony a lop-sided grin. “Just coffee is fine.”

 

“Your loss,” said Tony, shrugging.

 

“You know that providing alcohol to minors is illegal, right?”

 

“Nark. You’re starting to sound like Cap.”

 

Peter hesitated. Tony hadn’t mentioned Steve since whatever had happened between them, but Tony didn’t seem to notice he’d said anything odd. Peter decided not to point it out.

 

“We’re meeting Banner in the medical bay,” said Tony after passing Peter a thermos of coffee.

 

Peter took the coffee, looking suspiciously at Tony.

 

“What? It’s not spiked, I swear.”

 

Peter rolled his eyes but started to drink the coffee all the same.  “It doesn’t _taste_ spiked,” he allowed.

 

“I’m shocked at these attacks on my moral character.”

 

Peter snorted. He and Tony entered the elevator and pressed the button for the medical bay. “Since when does headquarters have a whole medical bay?” asked Peter.

 

“Since everyone was getting injured too much for that tiny clinical space in the tower to accommodate,” said Tony.

 

“Ah,” said Peter. He’d started to fidget again.

 

Tony must have noticed because he put a steadying hand on Peter’s shoulder. “It’s okay, kid. It’s just Banner.”

 

“I know,” said Peter. “It’s not _him_ I’m afraid of.”

 

“Who are you afraid of?”

 

“Me.”

 

Tony opened his mouth with every intention of saying something bolstering and inspirational but closed it again when absolutely nothing came to mind. Instead, he settled for giving Peter a bracing clap on the back and hoped it communicated a similar sentiment.

 

Peter and Tony emerged from the elevator to find Bruce peering at a specimen through one of his microscopes. “What you got there, Banner?” asked Tony.

 

Bruce looked up. “A Chitauri energy core,” he said. “I figured it might be best to familiarize ourselves with the properties of their technology since—“

 

Tony shot Bruce a fierce warning look.

 

“In case, you know, we ever encounter a similar threat again,” Bruce finished lamely. Peter, preoccupied with his own problems, didn’t seem to notice anything.

 

Tony cleared his throat a little uncomfortably. “I’ll uh—leave you guys to it, then, huh?”

 

As Tony disappeared back into the elevator, Peter looked at Bruce carefully. “Dr. Banner—“

 

“Bruce, Peter. Please.”

 

“Bruce. I—thanks for doing this. For helping me.”

 

Bruce felt a pang. Peter’s earnest eyes and kicked puppy expression made Bruce feel begrudgingly sympathetic with Tony volunteering him without his consent. Anything to stop the kid looking like _that._

 

“Sure, Peter,” said Bruce cautiously. “I just want to lead with… I’m not an expert, you know. In self-control. I—I don’t know what Tony’s told you, but keeping a handle on the Hulk takes every ounce of my resolve. And I still mess up. Constantly. I just spent two full years as the Hulk, Pete. Take that as you will.”

 

Peter’s eyes widened. “Two _years?_ How did you become yourself again? Where were you?”

 

Bruce could see that this was heading into dangerous waters; clearly Tony hadn’t filled the kid in about the warship that he and Thor had spotted on their way back from Asgard. Bruce cleared his throat. “That’s a long story… and one for another time. Today’s about you, remember? Maybe it’s best if you tell me what you’re hoping to accomplish here.”

 

Peter looked disappointed to miss out on the story but also sufficiently distracted. He sat down at the lab bench across from Bruce. “I want to stop what happened last night from ever happening again. I’m afraid that the next time I lose control I might kill someone.”

 

Bruce nodded understandingly. “It’s a thought that haunts me every time I come back to myself after being the Hulk. Who did I hurt? Did I kill anyone? It’s terrifying.”

 

Peter looked intently at Bruce. “So how do you control it?”

 

“Like I told you… I’m not perfect. In fact, between you and me… I have a significant anger problem. I’m pretty much angry all of the time.”

 

“Really?” asked Peter in surprise. “It doesn’t seem like it.”

 

“That’s because I’m good at re-directing it. Channeling it.”

 

“Can you teach me?” asked Peter.

 

“I can try,” said Bruce. “Like I said, I’m not an expert… but there _is_ something I thought we could try today, if you’re up to it.”

 

Peter nodded solemnly. Bruce gestured for him to follow him to the back of the medical bay where the device that Tony had lent him stood stationary on a desk. “Do you know what this is?”

 

Peter shook his head.

 

“It’s something Tony made when he was at MIT,” he said. “He wrote it off as junk a long time ago, but it’s kind of a psychiatrist’s daydream.”

 

“What does it do?” asked Peter curiously.

 

“It allows you to put yourself into a scenario of your making and to interact with the people and places in it through advanced interpretation of your own neurochemical signaling.”

 

“Okay…” said Peter. “I’m not quite following.” 

 

“We’re going to re-create the night that your aunt was attacked,” said Bruce.

 

Peter hesitated, feeling bile rise to the back of his throat. “Dr. Banner—I don’t… I’m not sure if I can handle it.”

 

Bruce looked sympathetic, but said firmly, “Yes, you can, Peter. I’ll be right here. Nothing that happens in this simulation is real, so even if you lose control again no one will be hurt. I’ll power it down if things get out of control, okay?”

 

“O-Okay,” said Peter shakily. He took a nervous breath. “Tell me what to do,” he said.

 

“Take deep breaths. Slow your heart rate. Force yourself to _remember_ the choice you want to make. Focus on that choice, Peter. See it in your mind’s eye. And then act on it.”

 

Peter nodded. He shut his eyes, taking a shaky breath.

 

“Tell me your plan,” said Bruce. “Tell me what you wish had happened last night.”

 

Peter opened his eyes again, his face set and determined. “I’ll stop him from hurting May. I’ll get her out. I won’t hurt him any more than I have to.”

 

Bruce nodded in approval. “Remember, this is going to feel very real… but it’s not, okay?”

 

Peter nodded, allowing Bruce to fix the glasses on his face. Bruce clapped Peter on the shoulders and stepped aside.

 

Peter gave an involuntary gasp as the waiting room of the medical bay transformed into his aunt’s bedroom. The sofas took on the appearance of her bed, the floors melted into her old shag carpet, and May stood just before him looking as real as she did in life. This time, he had a front row seat to the fight that was beginning.  

 

“Get out, Chris. I’m _done,”_ said May. She started to walk away towards the door.

Chris’s nostrils flared. “You’re done? What do you mean you’re fucking _done_? Don’t you dare walk away from me right now.”

 

Chris reached out, grabbing May’s forearm with enough force to make her grimace. Her voice was quite steady, however, when she responded. “Let go, Chris. You’re hurting me.”

 

Peter couldn’t bear it. He couldn’t stand to watch what he knew was coming next. “Let go of her!” he screamed. Chris and May turned towards him as if just realizing he was there.

 

“Peter, go to your room, honey,” May said calmly. “It’s alright.”

 

“No, May—“

 

“Didn’t you hear your aunt, kid?” asked Chris. “She said to—“  


“Don’t you tell Peter what to do,” said May coldly.

 

“You’re worried about the _kid?_ ” Chris’s anger flared and Peter saw his fist pulling back a split second before it connected with May’s face. May crumpled to the ground.

 

“ _NO!”_ yelled Peter. He charged forward, grabbing Chris by the shoulders and shoving him into the wall. He’d already punched Chris once when he remembered what Bruce had said. He took a deep steadying breath, willing himself to be calm. _This isn’t real._

 

Chris raised an eyebrow, staring at Peter through his blooming black eye as Peter hesitated with his fist raised. Chris laughed. “That’s what I thought. You don’t have the balls.”

 

Peter felt rage consume him, burning him from the inside. The desire to hurt Chris thundered through his veins. He reminded himself again what he’d told Bruce. _Get May out._

 

With great effort, he turned away from Chris and instead pulled May to her feet.

 

Chris was seething now. “Don’t you dare,” he spat. “Leave the bitch—“

 

Chris never finished his sentence. Peter was pummeling every inch of him he could reach. Somewhere dimly in the back of his mind, he knew he needed to stop, but he couldn’t listen…the roaring was back, filling his ears…

 

Suddenly he was aware of hands on his shoulders, firmly pulling him back from Chris. The next thing he knew, the glasses he’d forgotten he was wearing were being pulled from his face and he stood, panting, facing Bruce.

 

Bruce looked troubled. “Peter—“ he started, but Peter shook his head, cutting him off.

 

“I know. I know—I… lost control again.”

 

Bruce didn’t say anything for a moment. He studied Peter carefully. “Are you alright?”

 

“Y-yes,” said Peter. “I just—wasn’t concentrating hard enough.”

 

Silence settled between them. Bruce was studying Peter closely.

 

“Did you—see it?” Peter asked finally.

 

Bruce looked away uncomfortably. Peter closed his eyes, breathing in deeply as he gathered his resolve.

 

“Peter, if you don’t want to do this again, I completely—“

 

“No! I have to. I can’t afford to lose control again. I have to get my temper under control… Let me try again.”

 

“Alright,” said Bruce quietly. “Remember what we talked about. Clear your mind of everything but getting her out safely. Okay?”

 

Peter nodded.

 

Again, he put himself through hell and again he found himself unequal to the task of refraining from hurting Chris. The next thing he knew, he was blinking under the fluorescent lights of the Med Bay, Bruce’s anxious face inches from his.

 

“Peter, this has been a great strain on you. I know how real this simulation feels. I think we should leave it here for today.”

 

“No!” said Peter. He stepped back from Bruce, taking a deep breath. “Please. Just one more try.” Peter closed his eyes, casting his thoughts out again to refocus himself. In his mind’s eye, he saw his Uncle Ben. He tried to imagine what Ben would have done. He took another breath and looked up to meet Bruce’s gaze. “I’m ready.”

 

“Alright,” said Bruce hesitantly. He looked as if he regretted allowing Peter another try, but gritted his teeth and started the simulator once more.

 

After Chris hit May, Peter still felt the roaring in his ears, the rage in his veins… but this time, it felt as if it were happening to someone else. Like he was watching himself from the outside. Miraculously, he felt _control._ As if he’d planned it all along, Peter incapacitated Chris with one quick strike, knocking him unconscious. He pulled May to her feet, settled her down on the couch with an ice pack, and called the police to report the assault. As things settled within the simulation, Peter stared at Chris’s prone figure, feeling peripheral waves of anger. He turned away.  

 

Peter gasped as he again felt Bruce’s hands on his shoulders. This time, he removed the glasses himself, grinning into Bruce’s impressed face.

 

“Excellent, Peter!” He was beaming. Peter couldn’t help it; he grinned too.

**Notes for the Chapter:**

> Comments light my darkest days! <3

**Author's Note:**

> I feel like this might be a tiny bit OOC for Peter... thoughts? Thanks for reading!


End file.
